


‘Twas the Night Before Christmas Omens

by HotCrossPigeon



Series: Stories to brighten up your day [4]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, The Night Before Christmas - Clement Clarke Moore
Genre: Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Cuddling & Snuggling, Drunk Shenanigans, First Kiss, Fluff, Giggling, Humor, Idiots in Love, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Ineffable Idiots (Good Omens), M/M, Mutual Pining, Nonsense, Old Married Couple, Ridiculous, Soppy, Sorry Not Sorry, besotted idiots, soft, terrible rhyming, this will read better if you are very drunk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:41:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28197822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HotCrossPigeon/pseuds/HotCrossPigeon
Summary: ‘Twas the night before Christmas, in a little bookshop in London,Not a creature was stirring, well... perhaps there was one.An angel was preparing cocoa, with whipped cream and marshmallows,In one hand he held a copy of Shakespeare’s Othello.He nestled himself in his armchair, all snug,While sipping his drink from an angel wing mug...
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Stories to brighten up your day [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1771381
Comments: 41
Kudos: 140





	‘Twas the Night Before Christmas Omens

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SightKeeper (GarrulousGibberish)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GarrulousGibberish/gifts).



> I can’t rhyme for toffee. This is just terribly silly nonsense! :D
> 
> For SightKeeper, who has been incredibly kind. 
> 
> Knocked this out in a day, so I apologise if it’s awful! XD

‘Twas the night before Christmas, in a little bookshop in London,

Not a creature was stirring, well... perhaps there was _one._

An angel was preparing cocoa, with whipped cream and marshmallows,

In one hand he held a copy of Shakespeare’s Othello.

He nestled himself in his armchair, all snug,

While sipping his drink from an angel wing mug.

A pair of nifty spectacles were perched upon his nose,

in the hopes he would spend a quiet evening in prose.

The bookshop was festive and merry within,

and the door was locked to ensure no one else could get in.

Ancient decorations were hung with due care,

There were holly and ivy entwined on the stair,

And a devilish poinsettia sat in full view,

  
  
Courtesy of a certain demonic fiend that he knew.

_Lovely_ , the angel thought, as he tucked himself in,

  
  
A warm tartan blanket pulled up to his chin -

When suddenly - a loud noise gave the angel a fright!

“Good gracious, not a customer? And at this time at night!”

Aziraphale held a hand to his breast in dismay,

“I shall have to tell them to please go away!”

With a huff and a puff he quickly arose,

To make sure the shop sign was indeed turned to _‘closed’_.

Away to the window he flew like a flash,

Shut all the shutters and secured the latch.

Then came a banging and knocking, a right terrible din.

“We’re quite definitely closed! I shan’t let you in!”

“Oi. It’s me!” came a muffled voice from the other side of the door.

“ _Crowley?_ ” inquired the angel, “Whatever are you here for?”

Aziraphale opened the door, his cheeks tinged with red,

“My dear fellow,” he groused, “you might have called ahead.”

And there was the Bentley, steaming in the snow -

Aziraphale knew at once - it must be his _foe!_

And what to his wondering eyes did appear?

But a _very_ drunk demon flopped down on his rear.

“Crowley,” started the angel, with a long suffering sigh,

And then quickly decided he didn’t want to pry.

“Never mind. I honestly, truly, don’t even _want to know._ ”

“You _do!”_ said the demon, with his arse in the snow.

“I’ve got thisss plan, great big old plan, see,

And it’s starting right now, and it involvesss you and me!”

Aziraphale dabbed at his brow with his pocket handkerchief,

“I don’t have time for your ridiculous mischief.

I shall have to bid you a fond good _night._ ”

“Come onnnn, s’Christmas!”

Sighed the angel, “Oh, all _right.”_

He would allow the demon to explain his reasoning.

“But you better have good cause for interrupting my evening.”

“So,” managed the demon, “right, thisss plan. It’s the best.”

“You’ve forgotten it, haven’t you? I might’ve _guessed_.”  
  


  
“No!” said Crowley. “well... maybe... well... yes.”

What he was up to was anyone’s guess.

Crowley picked up a battered twig from the Bentley’s bonnet,

that might’ve been a rose, before someone sat on it.

“This is for you! It’sss romantic, I think.

... thing is angel, I might’ve had a bit to drink.”

The Angel of the Lord merely rolled his eyes,

To be honest, this didn’t come as much of a surprise.

On Christmas Eve, it had become quite the tradition,

to witness the demon in such a condition,

He got merry and affectionate and prone to smiling,

Aziraphale found it all (secretly) rather beguiling.

Not that he would ever admit to such a thing!

No, if anyone asked, it was _terribly_ annoying.

“I suppose you had better come in, before you freeze!

But leave any nefarious business outside, please.”

The angel put a hand on the shivering demon’s arm,

and led him into the bookshop where it was cosy and warm.

“That’s it, now, _steady_ \- do be careful my dear, 

it can get awfully dangerous and slippery out here.”

Crowley was sozzled, his breath like a brewery,

His hands moved about with a great deal of tomfoolery,

And despite Aziraphale’s sound advice, 

he fell arse over tit - not once, but _twice._

Aziraphale resorted to taking him into his arms,

and carrying him over the threshold before further harm

could befall his idiotic drunken best friend.

“A nice drop of Sherry, and you’ll soon be on the mend!”

He put the demon down, with no little glee,

And sat down next to him on the settee.

“I thought you were settling down for a long winter’s nap?”

“Nah. Thought I might... pop round for a night cap,

See how you were doing,” said Crowley, “you know.”

Aziraphale ducked his head with delight, “Is that so?”

“I’m a demon, I’ve come here to tempt you to sin,

and more fool you, ‘cause you let me in.”

“Honestly,” lamented Aziraphale, “I don’t know why I put up with you.”

“S’cause you love me, angel.” 

“... Lord help me, I do.”

Silence fell, for a rather long while...

Then they looked at each other, and began to smile.

And the smiles turned to giggles and the giggles turned to snorts,

Until they had to lean on one another for support.

“Wahoo!” shouted Crowley, “Come on then, give us a snog.”

“I would sooner,” giggled the angel, “give a kiss to a frog!”

“Ew, wot, Hastur?” Crowley bristled, “but he smells like poo!”

“Just come _here,_ will you. What am I to do with you?”

“Kisssss me,” hissed the demon, “you know you want to.”

“Do you know,” murmured the angel, “I think that I do.”

Crowley’s nose was cold, and his lips were like ice,

But as first kisses went it was awfully nice.

And the demon nearly melted right into a puddle,

When Aziraphale wrapped him up in a cuddle.

“Merry Christmas, you silly old thing,” the angel said,

As he pressed a small kiss to the side of his head.

And Crowley thought, as he lay on Aziraphale’s chest,

That yeah, all right, his plan had been a bit of a mess,

but in the end it seemed it had worked out _just right_.

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!


End file.
